


There Goes Gravity

by cumberhardhiddlesbitch



Series: The Rhombus 'Verse [9]
Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Long-Distance Relationship, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 15:12:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16020503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cumberhardhiddlesbitch/pseuds/cumberhardhiddlesbitch
Summary: Back in London, Shannon is missing Tom. Edward comes over, they watch movies, Shannon has an epiphany.





	There Goes Gravity

"So, what are you doing tonight?" Edward asked. Shannon held the phone between her ear and her shoulder, lying on the sofa.

"Honestly? Trying not to pout. It can't be attractive. I'm sure it's giving me lines."

"What's wrong?"

"I'm missing Tom."

"Well, that's only to be expected. Do you want some company? I could nudge you every time you start to furrow your brow."

"Yes, if you can come over here. I just put a chicken in the oven." She sat up, looking critically around the room. It was nearly company neat, just a few small areas of clutter.

"To eat?"

"No, I was going to shellac it and use it in a multimedia piece about consumerism and the pervasive lie that is Marks and Spencer trying to sell happiness in aseptically packaged Meals for One."

"That's a shame, because I'm starving."

"It's for eating, you berk. My plan for the evening is to watch movies and eat chicken. If you require something more exciting than that, I'm afraid I can't help you."

"I'll be there in an hour," he said. "Should I bring something?"

"Only if you want something specific other than chicken. Just bring your lovely self."

"Right. See you soon."

She listlessly tidied up the living room, moving some of the piles to the bookshelf and trying to arrange them in a more aesthetically pleasing way. As Sarah and Max both had a right to use the room too it was hard to tell what to move, what to get rid of, and she wasn't immune to leaving her things in the common spaces, so it wasn't as if she could even complain. After a very few minutes she gave up on trying to make the room look neater. Edward was a good enough friend that as long as there was a clear place to sit, it just didn't matter.

The chicken was cooling on the stove top when he came to the door. She let him in, accepting the bottle of wine he offered. It was white, and already chilled.

"Did you bring this from home?" she asked as they walked back to the kitchen. 

"No, I picked it up at the off lic down the street." He hung his jacket on the hook by the kitchen door and sat down at the worktop, earning a glare from the cat who was perched on the other high stool.

"It shouldn't be too surprised then," she said, setting it on the counter, the corkscrew next to it. It wasn't a label she was familiar with but there was a helpful icon of a chicken on the back, the reason, she supposed, that Edward had chosen it.

"It's a polite wine," he offered. "I don't think it will be too surprised."

She laughed even though his description might have been perfectly apt. "If we give it any more personality I'll feel bad drinking it." She opened the bottle and pushed it back from the edge of the worktop, letting it breathe for a moment.

"There's no dressing or anything," she said as she pulled out a knife for the chicken. "I had nothing in, really. It's just got a few carrots and a parsnip in the pan and I stuffed it with a lemon."

"That's fine. Go on, you're always so worried."

She started breaking down the chicken, pleased that the joints came away from the body so easily. "Do you want a leg?"

"Did you have plans for it?"

She slid the leg on to a plate, fairly sure that he'd want it skin and all. "It's a small bird, we might finish it. If I'm not feeling lazy I might use the bones for stock but honestly, my plan is to eat it."

"Then yes. The leg and some white meat as well."

"I'm basically serving you chicken with a side of chicken." She resisted the urge to sneak a piece of meat for herself as she carved.

"Delicious." He stood behind her, looking over her shoulder.

"This knife really is exceptionally sharp, are you sure you want to be hovering?"

"I'm hungry," he said, but took a half step back. "And waiting on chicken oysters."

She broke down the wings and set them aside. The second joint had just enough meat that Edward might bother, but she didn't enjoy them. "What makes you think you're going to get the oysters? The oysters are for the cook."

"You always give me the chicken oysters," he said, whining, just playful enough for it to be bearable.

"Sometimes I think you just like saying chicken oyster." She slid another slice of breast meat off the knife, then tipped the chicken up on its end, exposing the back of the bird. "Here, do you want to get them out or shall I?"

"You please."

"Of course." She set the knife well out of the way and flipped the bite sized pieces of dark meat out of the divots at the base of the spine, setting them on Edward's plate. "I'll pick the bones clean later." She set the chicken back in the pan, scooped out a small serving of vegetables for each of them, and turned to the sink to wash her hands. 

Edward poured the wine while she covered the chicken, now nearly clean, with foil, lest the cat have too easy a temptation. He sipped at his glass, then carried both glasses into the living room. Shannon smiled after him, wondering if he even realized that he took it upon himself to taste for her, not even asking. She wiped off the edge and base of each plate, and carried them out to the living room with a clean tea towel each. Edward had sat himself down on the floor, between the sofa and the coffee table. She handed him his plate, then spread her towel over the arm of the sofa, setting her plate there as she settled in.

He handed her glass of wine back without looking up. "What do you have queued up for us," he asked.

"Stuart, A Life Backward," she said, reaching for the remote.

Edward’s laugh was short. "You'll want to eat fast."

"Why, does it get gross?" She glanced at the DVD case. There was nothing there to suggest that it would be gory.

"It just gets very dark." His head bumped against her shin as he craned back to look up at her. "Do you want to start with something else?"

"Darker than Bronson?" she asked.

"In a different way. It's good, it's very very good, but fair warning. It's not got what I would call a happy ending."

"I can live with that." She turned it on, despite her sudden apprehension. She'd been looking forward to seeing Tom's face, even as he portrayed another person entirely, but Edward had her worried.

"I see what you mean," Shannon said, about half an hour into the film. She had finished eating but still held her wine glass, running the edge of it over her lower lip, absentmindedly. She glanced at Edward, sprawled in the corner of the sofa. It occurred to her that he'd seen it already. "Did you want to watch something else?" 

"No, it's a good film." He sat up and gently removed her glass from her hand. 

"I'm still drinking that," she said.

"Kind of worried you might break it, you were holding it so tight."

"Alright. Thanks."

"He's very good," Shannon said, mentally counting the minutes until the film was over, and hoping the next one might be a bit lighter. "The other guy."

"Benedict Cumberbatch," Edward said. 

"Yeah, him. He's doing an amazing job at acting like an asshole who doesn't even know that he is one."

"Harsh," Edward said. "But true." 

Shannon cringed as Alexander made Stuart effectively the entertainment for his middle class friends. "Yeah."

At the end of the film she picked up her glass again and drank, the wine now just on the wrong side of warm.

"Want me to get you a fresh glass?" Edward asked.

"Sure." She handed it to him, content to stay curled up in the corner of the sofa, thinking. Tom had looked so small in that part, entirely unlike the way she remembered his body from her visit to New York. When he had talked about changing his body in order to get work, she'd always assumed that he meant working out, making himself larger.

Edward handed her the glass. "Here you go."

"Thanks." She looked toward the stack of DVDs. "I don't suppose you know of anything particularly light in there, do you?"

He picked up the DVD of The Virgin Queen and held it up. "This probably comes the closest, but he's not in it much, and he's very young."

"Hmm." She took the DVD case from him and turned it over in her hands as she thought about it. 

Edward had the remote, scrolling through the extras menu on Stuart. "We could watch his interview."

"Yeah, let's do that." She sat forward, hungry to hear from Tom in his own words, with his own face, not Stuart's face that he'd worn like a mask.

"He's more handsome now, yeah?" Edward asked, settling in next to her on the sofa. 

"I think so. Though that facial hair isn't doing much for him."

"A little scruffy is ok though, isn't it?" 

She shrugged, feeling oddly sleepy as she watched. It wasn't that she was particularly tired, more that between the food and the wine and the strange mental strain of trying to see Tom through the character he was portraying her mind was tired. She just let the sound of his voice wash over her rather than listening to his words, her head leaning on Edward's shoulder after a while.

She perked up when he was joined by Benedict, awkward but funny as he became part of the interview. 

_I just said some awful shit about you, man_ Tom said.

"I forgot about this bit," Edward said, chuckling.

"What about it?" Shannon asked.

"Shh." He nudged her and she turned her attention back to the TV.

_Had to bismark him on the forehead,_ Tom was saying.

Shannon looked over at Edward who was openly giggling. "What?"

"Shh."

"Seriously." She rolled her eyes, then punched him in the arm when Tom explained what it was. "What?"

"So wrong," Edward said, snuggling his head against her shoulder.

_Don't put that in, I'm sure the blokes at HBO wouldn't like the idea of any actor bismarking another actor._

Shannon sat up a little straighter, ignoring Edward's grumpy murmur as he slid off her shoulder. Don't put that in, Benedict said. Not, no you did not, but, don't put that in.

"Ben," she muttered as Tom and Benedict argued about whether or not there was bismarking going on during Band of Brothers. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the sofa, suddenly feeling faint. Ben was Benedict. She was sure of it, suddenly.

She rubbed her hand over her forehead, thinking. When Tom had told her about his partner, she'd assumed Ben was an outsider, like she was, but he wasn't. He was an actor, Tom's peer.

"You ok?" Edward asked, looking over at her. "Too much wine?" He took the glass out of her hand.

Shannon bit her lip. She wanted to spill everything to Edward, but Tom hadn't told her who Ben really was, to protect Ben's privacy. She felt sure, but it was still only a hunch. 

"I'm fine." She sat up and took her glass from him. "Is bismarking really a thing, or did he just make that up?"

Edward winked as he leaned back. "I'll never tell."

“I’m just going to look it up on the internet later,” she said. “You may as well tell me.”

“It’s a thing,” he said. “I do wonder if he would have actually slapped Benedict in the face with his flaccid cock.” He tilted his head to one side. “I suppose you could ask him.”

“That’s surely going to be the first thing I ask him when he returns home,” Shannon said. “Oh, hi Tom, glad to see you after so much time away. Say, did you once slap Benedict Cumberbatch in the face with your flaccid cock?”

“Would be a hell of an icebreaker, if you needed one,” Edward said. “I don’t suppose you’d want me asking him.”

“If you so much as joke about it again, I’ll not bring him around when you’re about,” she said.

“Fair enough. I will control myself.”

“See that you do.” She leaned her head back on the sofa. “That wine is making my head feel heavy.” She sat up, determined not to fall asleep just yet. “Is your ankle ok? I thought you might still be using the crutches.”

Edward shook his head. “It’s fine. I still get sore if I do too much but day to day it’s alright. I certainly haven’t tested it with heels or anything like that.”

Shannon turned towards him. “So, is it just your ankle keeping you away from your shoes then?”

“Well, that and the fact that I retired. I had a last show, went out in a pretty dramatic way, if I do say so myself.”

“Too bad most of the drama was after you’d left the stage,” Shannon said, chuckling.

“I did get carried by a gallant and strapping young man,” he sighed. “But that’s the thing, I made an exit. Even if I wanted to come back, it couldn’t be after so little time.”

“That’s the first I’ve even heard you say maybe, though,” Shannon said. She looked at him, wondering if she was pushing too hard. “I don’t need to know for sure, or anything, I’m just pleasantly surprised.”

“I’m not totally divorced from the idea,” he said. “I’ll leave it at that for now.” He stood up and collected their plates and tea towels. When he came back he had a glass of water for her. 

“Thanks.” She drank half of it, then sat up straighter, not wanting Edward to think she was on the verge of falling asleep. “Are you entirely divorced from the idea of doing any more catering?”

“As long as I have a steady job, yes,” he said. “Though I wouldn’t rule out a weekend job if you wanted company.” 

“I’m done with it as well. I’ve said no so many times recently that I doubt any of our old contacts will even call me, not that I’m sad about that.”

“I’m glad you’re done,” he said. “It was about time, for both of us.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t get too cocky. But my income has picked up while my expenses haven’t over the last few months, so I’ve got a cushion. Of course, according to my mother it’ll never be enough, but that’s alright. Nothing would please her, I’m beginning to think.”

“Glad to see you’re joining the rest of us,” he said, rolling his eyes. “What does your father think of your recent commissions?”

“He’s proud, and like any time something good happens he seems delighted but not surprised, which I suppose is a very nice thing for a parent to be.”

“That is nice.” Edward looked over at the stack of DVDs. “Should we try at least one more?”

“You’ve seen all of them, so I suppose it wouldn’t matter if we chatted during our viewing,” Shannon said. “Let’s at least start the Virgin Queen.”

“Good choice.” Edward helped himself to the remote and cued up the film, not so subtly skipping ahead to Tom’s first appearance. 

“God, he looks young,” Shannon said. 

“You’re still young yourself,” Edward said. “As is he, I might add.”

“Yes, I know, but he looks fresh out of university young, if that.” There was a softness to his face that he no longer had, the clean shaven skin setting off the lushness of his mouth. She had a sudden memory of the way his mouth felt pressed against her and shivered. 

“You look like a cat getting ready to pounce,” Edward said. “You know he’s not really here, right?”

“I know,” she said, swatting at him with a throw pillow. He’d reminded her that the cat hadn’t had his evening meal. She stood up. “Thanks for reminding me to feed the cat. Would you pause it?”

Edward followed her to the kitchen and watched as she scooped out a can of food along with a few scraps of chicken for the always aloof Edelweiss, who, as usual, pretended to turn his nose up at it before approaching the plate from the other side and eating with gusto. 

“Are Sarah and Max out for the night?” Edward asked.

“They said they’d be back late if at all,” Shannon said. “It’s been nice, having the flat to myself.”

“Are you thinking it’s time for a change?”

She felt the usual sort of discomfort that she usually did when contemplating that question, the gnawing at the top of her stomach all too familiar. She busied herself with filling the kettle, trying to push that feeling away. 

“Not yet,” she said. “I don’t want to be the roommate to a couple forever, and I’m really going to want my own space if things go well with Tom, because I don’t want to have to contemplate who I can trust. It would be nice to have more control over my own space, but I don’t want the expense of moving just now, when I’ve only just started doing well enough to contemplate it.”

“I can see not wanting the expense.” Edward sat on one of the tall chairs at the counter, resting his elbows on the worktop. “As to who you can trust, that’s pretty loaded.”

“It is. Tom was here a couple of times, though the first time there was a whole hoard here and I didn’t let him come in. I made him pick me up at the curb.”

Edward laughed. “He didn’t think that was odd?”

“He doesn’t like meeting new people any more than I do. The night you sprained your ankle he came in and there were a few people here, but it was so brief I didn’t even introduce him around and I doubt that Max has mentioned to anyone that he’s Tom Hardy, the actor.”

“What about Sarah? Would she mention it?”

Shannon shrugged, opening a cabinet and choosing two mugs. “I honestly think she doesn’t care. Like, I think it would be quite normal to be interested if an acquaintance was dating someone with some moderate or even minor celebrity, but she just isn’t all that interested in film and so she doesn’t really care to mention it. I suppose that’s something I’m grateful for, that it’s one less person I have to really worry about, but it’s because she’s a bit away with the fairies. I mean, if you were dating a famous economist I’d be interested, even though that’s not my field.”

Edward smiled, leaning his head on his hand. “Just out of curiosity, who were you thinking of when you mentioned famous economists?”

Shannon glanced over at the kettle, the clear window on the side showing it just starting to boil. She reached for the kettle just as it clicked off, trying to think of even one economist.

“Alan Greenspan,” she said triumphantly, stealing a glance at Edward as he started to giggle.

“If Alan Greenspan started dating me it would be more than idle gossip, but I get your point,” Edward said, the mere thought of it seeming to set him off into giggles again. “About Tom’s boyfriend, though, am I still the only person you’ve told?”

Shannon nodded, pushing his cup of herbal tea across the counter to him. “I can’t really see asking him for permission to tell anyone else, and I think they’ve only just told their own families, if that.” 

“Is that not going to start to wear on you?”

Shannon got comfortable, her hands wrapped around her mug, letting herself think it over. “I think it will, eventually, but at the moment his boyfriend hardly seems real. I haven’t met him. Tom barely mentioned him all weekend, and it’s not as though I can really bring him up, considering I don’t have the first idea of who he is.” The lie was almost too easy. 

“That’ll all change when you meet him though, right?”

Shannon had a sudden catch in her throat at the thought of meeting Ben, letting herself imagine him as Benedict. The fact that he now had a face, even if she was later proved wrong, made the thought of meeting him all too real. He’d be a living breathing human with talents and attributes she didn’t have, and to be seen side by side with him, perhaps Tom would finally find her wanting. 

“Shannon?” Edward was leaning towards her, his brow furrowed. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just suddenly the thought of meeting him seems all too real.” She pulled a chair round so she could sit facing him. 

“Is it maybe that it’s one thing to be ok with the idea of polyamory and another to actually experience it?” Edward turned his mug round and round in his hands as he looked at her.

“I guess I’ll find out. It’s not like I’ve really experienced it. Every time I’ve seen or talked to Tom it’s only been the two of us. I know that Ben is out there and I know that some of the time I might have liked to have seen Tom he might have been busy seeing Ben, but he was more likely busy with work or his kid. So far it hasn’t really felt all that different to dating someone who has other obligations, as we all do.” She sipped at her tea, holding back from pointing out that she wouldn’t really know, her years with Marc having left her without the encyclopedic knowledge of dating that women her age were supposed to have.

“As long as it works for you, that’s all I care about,” Edward said. 

“Would be nice if it worked for all three of us,” Shannon pointed out.

“True, but you’re the only one I’ve got a vested interest in. So I’m pulling for you.” 

She nudged herself closer to him, enjoying the close warm space of the kitchen and the quiet of the house. “I guess the ideal situation would be if Ben and I became friends.” 

“And you’re lovely and you’ve already got something in common. So I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.”

“Hopefully I won’t need luck, but thank you all the same.” 

A comfortable silence settled over them as they finished their tea, the only sounds the clinking of the radiator and Eidelweiss’ contented grumbling purr as he returned to his bowl. She let her thoughts drift, letting herself imagine a pleasant first meeting with Ben, and then drift further, simply thinking of seeing Tom again. When Edward caught her smiling to herself he winked at her, then stood up.

“Seems like you might be gathering wool for the rest of the evening,” he said as he brought his cup to the sink.

“You might be right,” Shannon said. “And I suppose you must have work in the morning.”

“That I do.” 

She walked with him to the front door, waiting while he got his jacket on. 

“Thanks for coming over tonight,” she said as he wrapped his scarf around his neck.

“I was happy to see you.” He held his arms open to her and she stepped in close, her forehead tucked against the bottom of his ear as he wrapped his wiry arms around her. He held onto her longer than usual, squeezing her especially hard just before he let go. “I’m glad we both still have time to get together like this.”

“I’ll always make time, no matter what.” 

“Same here.” He looked back as he was going out the door. “Keep me up to date about meeting this mystery gentleman.”

“I will do.” 

“And please remember, I’m Team Shannon.”

She rolled her eyes, holding onto the door as he stood on the threshold. “It’s not a contest.” 

“Even so.” He pointed at her. “Team Shannon.” 

“Well, thank you for that.”

He nodded sharply, then turned away, leaving her pleased at his support but hoping that she wouldn’t need it at all.


End file.
